Trinity
by saganamidreams
Summary: Ninth Doctor. JackDoctorRose. A response to a challenge request for OT3 romance, so it's by definition slashy, but there's no smut. Reviews would be most welcome.


Written in response to museOffire's challenge/request on timeandchips who said:

_…However, I'd really love to read an honest to god OT3 romance. So, here's the challenge: OT3, Romance, Smut included (cause that's just fun g). Not much of a challenge, I know. So, here's a set up for you in case you want one. On some planet somewhere all three are separated from each other and are under the impression that the other two are dead. sniff All they can do is try to get back to the TARDIS. From there on, it's all up to you._

**Disclaimer:** All recognisable characters, concepts and situations are copyright to the BBC.

A/N: Despite the challenge terms, I'm afraid it's BYO Smut.

* * *

Trinity

"I can't believe you brought us here."

Jack looked around the city square, silently agreeing with Rose. It was brown; brown in every direction. Brown trees, brown buildings, brown people, brown, brown, brown…

The Doctor sighed, shaking his head as he looked first at one, then the other.

"I'd think you two'd know by now that you shouldn't judge a planet without knowin' something about it. And this place…" he spread his arms wide, gesturing at the city surrounding them, "is fantastic."

Jack and Rose looked around, each trying to figure out what exactly about this place was 'fantastic'. They knew there'd be something – there always was – but it wasn't necessarily something a human would notice. Whether from the 20th century or the 51st, humans had a different set of priorities than Time Lords. A closer look found the square decorated with hanging banners and streamers, also brown.

"Ah ha!" Rose pounced on the Doctor, hanging off his shoulder. "It's a party, right?"

"Score one for the youngest ape!"

Jack grinned at them, watching them laughing and shoving at each other. It faded as they started to hit each other, tearing at each other with senseless words. He ran towards them to pull them apart but he couldn't reach them. They wavered, glowing brighter and brighter, blurring and shimmering; dissolving, disappearing, fading away as he regained consciousness.

Pain radiating through his body, he hissed as cracked ribs shifted, knew he was hurt. It started to come back: flashes of what was happening, of where he was.

Stifling a scream of pain and rage that had little to do with the physical, he forced himself to his feet. The burning building was a torch, a pyre. Staggering forward, he ducked, wincing as another explosion ripped through it. Couldn't understand why the debris and sparks stopped in midair, falling back into the flames.

Staggered forward until he hit the barrier. Pounded on it, roaring at the fire whose roars drowned his own.

It was burning. They were burning and he couldn't get to them. He had to get to them, had to be with them. Slammed his hands against solid air and laughed bitterly. An invisible barrier between them. Laughed as tears slid down his face.

People rushing everywhere, running around like ants in a mound that had been kicked over. No one approached him. He lunged; grabbed one of them and snarled, "Who got out?"

It just sent him a panicked look. "No one," it said, "no one got out."

Jack wanted to kill it, but he let it go. The absolute certainty in its voice, the inferno before him, trapped inside the invisible wall, convinced him.

No one got out.

Rose, his Rose. All her golden beauty, her innocence, her trust. All gone; burned to nothing. And the Doctor. His Doctor: all the strength, the grace, the belief. Gone.

His life, gone.

They gave him back his life, they'd saved him, and now he couldn't even die with them.

He'd heard the first pops, had seen the first flare that birthed the firestorm. The shock wave had blown him off his feet, blown him out of the building. Half conscious before he hit the ground, his body had saved him. Training had taken over and he'd twisted in mid-air, shifted his weight and landed barely better than dead weight would have. He'd hit hard enough to hurt; hard enough to push him down into blackness.

A blackness he now craved.

His mind gave up, shut down in the enormity of his loss. Instincts took over, his heart pounding out a message: Get home. Get home. Get home.

* * *

They were gone. Wiped out in an instant. Their little human lives snuffed out, nothing left, not even their bodies. They were burning in the intense heat. Like all that he had ever loved: immolated, reduced down to cinder and ash. And he was alone. 

He'd been on top of the building, watching the twin moons. Jack and Rose, all vivid quickness and laughing mischief, hadn't followed; had wanted to explore the people, the music, the life twirling through the festival.

He'd felt the building shudder beneath him. Had felt the heat of the explosion, had raced to the stairs but been driven back by the flame.

Had run to the edge, ready to leap off it as sirens filled the night.

Had dissolved in a blinding flash of white. Resolved, staggering, falling to the ground, surrounded by figures he recognised; they'd been on the roof with him. His mind automatically registered what had saved him: emergency teleport system. It allowed everyone in sight to be plucked from danger.

Looked around at the figures staggering to their feet and hated them, intensely. For being alive when his people were gone. Jack. Rose. Gone.

He shook off the hands that tried to help him, ignored the voices steeped with sorrow: everyone in the building dead, no one got out.

No one got out.

No one.

He ran _fled_ to the TARDIS.

She was all he had left.

* * *

She'd turned, drawn by the strange popping noise. 

The roaring of the crowd, the yells and laughs of the revellers, the small explosions of light and colour, were drowned by another noise.

A roaring blinding screaming noise. As the building exploded she realised it was her.

She could see the Doctor, dark shadow on the roof. Saw him disappear as the roof collapsed. Watched desperately, waiting for anyone to emerge from the ruin.

No one did.

She bolted towards the flames.

Was tackled, grabbed. She fought back; forgetting everything Jack had taught her as she bit and kicked and clawed. She had to get to them.

A second body joined the first, pressing her to the ground with their combined weight until she stopped struggling, stopped fighting, just kept grasping with her outstretched hand towards the ruin of her life.

"They've put the shield up," a voice said, "she can't get in now. Let her go."

The weight left her but she couldn't move; lay there, gasping, sobs ripping through her, hand still reaching out towards the flame.

They were gone.

Her mind shuddered. They couldn't be dead.

_but they are _

they must have gotten out

_but they didn't, you watched, you saw, no one got out of that building, they're gon_e

and since they must have gotten out they'd be looking for each other

_no they wouldn't we'll never look for each other again they're gone _

and that meant to find them she'd go back to the TARDIS

_the TARDIS oh god, what was she going to with them gone _

because that's where they always went when they got separated.

* * *

He pounded through the TARDIS's door, slammed into the console room, grabbed the railing and gripped, hard enough to dent the metal. Eyes clenched shut, body bowed forward in a screaming note of agony, teeth bared. He couldn't, he just, he couldn't...He clung to the TARDIS, wondered what it would take to make this his last incarnation. 

His head shot up in desperate hope when the door slammed open. Rose, framed by the doorway, open mouthed. Staring at him. Shocked.

Neither moved, neither breathed. Frozen.

"Rose?" His voice was shaking.

She blinked at him, eyes wide and stunned. Stretching a trembling hand towards her, he straightened.

"Rose? Rose." She was in shock, shivering, standing in the doorway, staring at him. He wanted to grab her, desperately, violently, but she looked so frail, so fragile, her eyes so frighteningly blank, he didn't dare.

Walking slowly, he reached out, slid his fingers over her face, tracing the bones beneath the skin. She closed her eyes, leaned into his hand; a tear tracked down her face.

"Rose," he whispered.

She opened her eyes. "Doctor?"

He held her eyes, saw sense return, gaze focussing on him as he slid his hand into her hair.

He couldn't stop himself.

Dipping down he brushed her lips with his, gently, softly. Drew back, scanning her face; paused for a moment, then returned, stronger, deeper, pulling her towards him.

Wrapping her arms around him, returning his kiss desperately, she slid her hands under his shirt; palms skated across the hard muscles of his back, nails grazing his skin.

His lips left hers, skimming her jaw; soft fluttering pressure brushing cheek, forehead, tasting the salt of her sorrow. Folded her into the shelter of his body, buried his face in her hair and just breathed her in.

"I thought I'd lost you."

"Me too." The warmth of her breath suffused his chest where her face was pressed against him. Fine, invisible tremors vibrated up her spine.

He revelled in her, the feel of her: her life, her physical presence, the weight of her against him.

"Rose..." A stab of pain, blinding and sudden, stealing his breath.

She burrowed into him as if trying to climb inside, knowing what he was going to ask. "Don't, please…"

"Rose," he stopped, swallowed. "Rose, was Jack with…"

"No." Hopeless. "No, he was in..." she faltered, "...in the building."

"Rose." He pulled back, grasped her shoulders as she tried to follow him, holding her firmly. "Look at me, Rose."

She lifted her eyes to meet his.

"He couldn't have gotten out?"

"I watched it, watched it blow up. No one came out. I saw you…" Suddenly her head shot up, eyes bright and fierce. "I saw you fall into the building. You're alive. Maybe Jack – ."

He interrupted her; hated to, but it was cruel to let her hope, even for a second. "No, they lifted me off with a teleporter. Everyone they could see, they grabbed. That was all they could save."

Her face crumpled. She reached for him, kissing him again, hard and desperate. Pulled back, gasping. "I'm not going to lose you, too. Never." Reached up to grab his face, hard between her hands, locked eyes with him. "I love you. With everything I have, everything I am and I thought I'd lost you and I'd never get to tell you so I love you." She was babbling, the words tumbling over each other as she raced to get them out.

His eyes slide shut at the magnitude of it. Felt his hearts sing in response. Felt her draw away. Opened his eyes; saw her hopelessness at his reaction. Raced to correct her misunderstanding. "No. Rose, no, don't," he trapped her hands under his, halting their slide away. "I love you, always loved you, I live my life for you."

Words, words, always the quest for words: the heart sings emotion and the feeble brain scrambles desperately to translate. Tawdry and simple, they weren't enough.

What couldn't be expressed could be shown.

Hands still on hers, holding her tight against him he kissed her, slowly. Pressed his lips to her forehead in benediction, traced down as she closed her eyes, brushing first one, then the other. Followed the planes of her face, rubbing his cheek against hers, following the natural path back to her lips. Released her hands to drag her closer, felt hers move from his face, sliding around his neck.

He lost the sense of seperate bodies: they were rising passion, thrilling through him. Her hands tightening, digging in as she opened her mouth under his, tongue tasting, touching him, dragging him towards the edge of his control.

Slid his hands down her body, reaching her hips, pulled her tight against him as she whimpered. Felt the slide as she rose on her toes, trying to push even closer to him.

Tears flowed freely, the joy they felt as they reached for each other tempered by the bitter sorrow of their loss.

Slid his eyes shut as she nuzzled along the skin of his neck, nipping at the hollow of his throat; tasting, kissing, drinking him in.

Opened them wide at the soft, strangled cry that washed over him.

Jack. Standing in the doorway as Rose had been. Slumped, leaning against the door as if he couldn't support his own weight.

Eyes wide and staring, he felt Rose's confusion at his sudden shift. Felt her turn. Knew the exact instant she saw Jack.

"Jack!" He didn't know which of them said it.

He was just staring at them, throat moving as he swallowed, dragged in a breath. "You're dead." Dark eyes bruised and screaming pain as he took them in.

The minute distance between their embrace and Jack's solitary refuge was magnified and infinite: an echoing chasm filled with ringing silence.

Poised in a perfect moment of choice he could feel Rose; knew she was with him in that moment.

Jack was staring at them, so certain of their deaths he was unwilling to risk believing they were real.

Two paths opening before him, so clear. He had to choose; _they_ had to choose. A moment's silent communion, eyes leaving Jack for a heartbeat to meet. Silent words spoken, bright singing joy flowing between them; each understanding, each choosing the same. Separating until only their entwined hands joined them.

Gently, gently he took the lead, approaching Jack slowly, afraid he would bolt away. "No, Jack. We're alive. You're alive."

Carefully, delicately reached out to trace the beautiful face.

Rose pushed close to Jack, pressing against him, reaching around to hold him tight as if he might dissolve into smoke if she didn't anchor him, trailing kisses across his shoulder, his chest, everywhere she could reach.

He slid his hand behind Jack's neck, pulled him close, felt Rose between them. Brushed his lips with his own; gently, gently, putting all their combined joy at his existence into that soft touch.

Felt Jack's weight shift, leaning into Rose, leaning into him, arms sliding around both of them. Deepened the kiss as he felt the tension drain from him, felt him respond. Slid his hand down that warm vibrant body, _alive both alive_, drawing them against him.

Felt Rose reaching up; pulled away to allow her to claim his place, watching as they kissed, an affirmation.

Pressed his forehead against their temples, kissing one then the other, whispering "I love you" over and over again, heard Rose echoing him, her words mingling with Jack's.

They caught fire. Moments lost in the incandescence of touch, the passion flowing between them all golden light, tangible and real. The gaping void that had opened in each of them filled now with this new - _but not new it was always there_ a part of him whispered – existence.

Jack's gasp of pain broke the moment. Hands gentled, softening as the Doctor leaned back to look at him. Saw the pain in his eyes and remembered the way he'd stood. Rose was already lifting Jack's shirt, hands sliding across the skin, seeking the injury; eyes tracing the deep bruises already darkening the pale skin. She looked up questioningly and Jack laughed shakily.

"The blast blew me out of the building." His voice was uneven as he rested against them. "Not serious, just some bruises, couple of cracked ribs."

The injuries marring Jack's skin acted as a brutal reminder of what had almost happened, what they'd almost lost.

Passion was set aside, simmering under the surface but for the moment secondary. Without its sustaining energy exhaustion came rushing back. They staggered, supporting each other, sustaining each other; falling back against the door.

He settled them against him against his chest, one in the curve of each arm. They had to move, had to collapse somewhere, had to sleep soon; he could feel tremors playing under their skin. Couldn't quite summon the will to move, to lose the feel of them; lost in the sight of them, one dark, one gold.

So human, so frail: their lives gone in a second. _But not today. _

He watched as a frown marred Rose's smooth skin, watched her brow wrinkle as she pressed her ear to his chest.

Watched her blink in surprise and glance up at him.

"You have two heart beats?"

He grinned, couldn't help it.

"Yeah."

He paused, grinned even wider as they both looked up at him.

"Works out nicely that, doesn't it?"


End file.
